


too close to touch

by PotterheadAvengerDemigod



Series: Introspective Drabbles [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Introspection, Kinda, M/M, Short, Unrequited Love, also kinda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 23:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10523985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotterheadAvengerDemigod/pseuds/PotterheadAvengerDemigod
Summary: He misses what he can't have.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I will admit this is just me throwing random bits of angst everywhere.

He looks out his window at the clouds drifting past, the sky bluer than anything he’s seen, the bright,  _ alive  _ blue of nature, beautiful and hopeful, so much brighter than the pale iciness of his eyes. The white clouds are like little imperfections in the endless blue of the sky, small dots across the wide expanse, breaking up the monotonous blue, imperfections, but somehow ever so much more beautiful.

Like freckles on tanned cheeks, small spots of melanin speckled across pink cheeks, golden skin made ever more exquisite by the little brown flecks, like the stars in the night sky, pinpricks of light in the darkness, like light reflecting off deep, caring brown eyes, wide and loving and so beautiful, and oh, how he misses them.

He misses seeing them in the morning, squinting with grogginess, lidded and heavy with sleep, opening the door across from his own just as he opens his. He misses the meeting of brown to blue, the spark that fizzles to life and dies just as quick as their gazes meet. He misses soft hands and wide smiles and short blond hair. He misses blades strapped to dainty feet and the grace in that lithe body, the power hidden under smooth skin and lean, streamlined muscles. He misses that cute button nose and the drag of an accent, the unconscious endearments that slip out and make him feel like there’s someone who actually likes him for him, someone who knows who he is, who’s weighed him against everyone else and hasn’t found him wanting.

He misses feeling accepted, feeling like he belongs. He misses waking to his alarm blaring before the sun even rises, crossing the hall to knock on an old wooden door, to hear the sheets rustling as their occupant awakens, hears the voice, thick with sleep call out before subsiding.

He misses what he can’t have.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_dreamdweller/)  
>  Pop over and say hi!


End file.
